


The Beautiful Legacy of Hakuryuu

by Buriko



Category: Akatsuki no Yona | Yona of the Dawn
Genre: Canon Backstory, F/M, Gen, Original Character(s), Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-22 17:31:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17064056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buriko/pseuds/Buriko
Summary: Follows briefly the lives of the three previous Hakuryuu. Everyone in the village knows Hakuryuu's hand is passed on to someday serve Hiryuu, and everyone knows that legacy will likely be passed on in a Hakuryuu's prime. The vengeful possession of Hakuryuu ghosts, however, can only weigh vaguely and ominously on their minds.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this a few years ago before the OAD about Kija's backstory or the fanbook came out, so a few details are canonically different now (most notably--Kija didn't have siblings in canon, but his father had one brother). However, in general it tries to be a faithful development of life in Hakuryuu Village for the average, ultimately useless Hakuryuu. As much as I like to joke about the Hakuboos in other fanwork, I wanted to work with them seriously. Also, working with Granny over the course of her life was fun!   
> I thought of all the names, but at the time I wrote this, omgitsgreen had a chosen name for Kija's father, so I stuck with that.

“Look, Lord Hakuryuu, you can see pink buds. The plum blossoms will be blooming soon.”

“Shortly after them will come spring.”

“And with spring, the baby.”

Mun-hi, Hakuryuu’s fourth and by far youngest wife, stroked her belly as she gazed out the window. She was lovely and excited, but he could sense the wistfulness behind her smile. “Do not worry,” he said. “I am sure you will have your figure back by this time next year.”

She let out a noise that was a mix of a whine and a growl. “I am sorry I could not dance for you this year. If I were not so round, I could still do the Dragon Dance with ease!”

“You will have to relinquish your spotlight. This year was my oldest daughter’s first time, and I was charmed by her instead.” When she scrunched up her face in protest, he went on. “Next year her sister will join her. I might be so blinded by their loveliness that I no longer have eyes for you, my dear.”

“I will be back out there next year, just you watch!”

“No, you will not,” he took a deeper tone with his lips close to her ears. “I do not wish for anyone else to see you.”

She flushed red and then pushed him away, saying, “Please do not do that, Lord Hakuryuu. I’m hot enough as it is.”

Hakuryuu had a contented smile as he leaned back, and then he looked out the window again. “They were already blooming by this time last year.”

“They were? You have a sharp memory.”

“I will never forget any detail of that night.”

“Me neither. That was the night I fell in love with you.”

“And that was the night I fell in love with your dancing.”

“Oh, Lord Haku—“

“But not the rest of you.”

She puffed her cheeks with a pout and playfully held up her fists, but she could not contain another blush and a smile, and then a lighthearted giggle. “The way you complimented me made me feel so special.”

“You _are_ special. You are the most aggressive girl in all Hakuryuu Village history. It is a wonder you do not possess the claws of Hakuryuu.”

“Hahaha,” Mun-hi laughed, subconsciously stroking her belly again while taking his teasing as a compliment. “Who is to say I do not?”

“Have another kumquat,” he said, and held one to her mouth as daintily as he could manage with his white claws. The way it quieted her and made her seem defenseless as she popped open her mouth and focused her attention on the morsel made him inwardly laugh at her cuteness. “You kept whining about how you were craving something tart, so I asked for them to be brought from the Water Tribe.” She spit the seeds into a napkin before thanking him, and then opened her mouth and waited for another. He placed one there as he stood up, leaving the basket of them in her hands, and her mouth too full to protest as he took his leave. “Now if you’ll excuse me, Nam-hi has been complaining of how cold the winter nights have been. You know how she is.”

She swallowed the seeds to waste no time in responding. “I know just how much of a—”

“Lord Hakuryuu, are you in there with Mun-hi? I am coming in.”

“—pleasant and attentive wife she is,” she changed her wording with a forced grin. “Hello, Granny.”

“Good evening, Mun-hi. Lord Hakuryuu, your bath is ready. Please be on your way before it catches any of this winter chill.”

“Thank you, Granny.”

“Lord Hakuryuu!”

He looked over his shoulder to Mun-hi before heading out the door. She was flushed and gave him a deep smile. “Happy birthday, my love.”

He accepted her wishes with a nod, and then saw himself out. Granny watched the door with an even wider smile than Mun-hi’s, but when she was sure he was out of ear shot, she shot a grin of a different sort to her. “I know what you were about to call Nam-hi.”

“There’s no escaping your ears, Granny.”

“Nor my intuition, dear.”

The rocky relationship between the Mun-hi and Hakuryuu’s other wives was no secret among the secluded village, where the only business anyone had was Hakuryuu’s business. The way she had gone on the attack around the man over ten years her senior turned heads, but only drew open disapproval from the three wives who had already been in polite competition with each other for several years already. In the end, although Hakuryuu’s was the only opinion that held any official weight, it was Granny’s high opinion of Mun-hi that settled the matter of their swift marriage. She had been charmed by her fiery spirit from the start, and appreciated her help in keeping the anxious dragon busy. Every few years he had contemplated leaving the village to search for Hiryuu, and Granny had struggled to keep him grounded with a new arranged marriage or with a feigned illness. Coming up with new ways to calm his nerves every few years was mentally exhausting, though she was otherwise still spritely in the tail end of her seventies.

“Sometimes I think I got the better present on his birthday last year,” Granny sighed with a chuckle.

“Not any better than the present I got,” Mun-hi gave her a satisfied look, which Granny returned with an even wider grin.

“True. You got yourself quite a catch there, young lady. He is the prettiest Hakuryuu yet.”

“You would know.”

“Granny knows all.”

Mun-hi laughed, then winced as she felt a cramp. Granny was immediately at her side to help her readjust so that her squished insides could be a little more comfortable. “Then do you know how to make pregnancy go any faster?”

“I am not that much of a miracle worker.”

“Granny?”

“Yes?”

“Did you ever have any children?”

“I have served four Hakuryuu, which is more than enough to be proud of.”

“But did you ever get married?”

She gave her a gentle smile. “Not once did I even consider it. I took up my title of ‘Granny,’ oh, nearly forty years ago. That was when the previous Hakuryuu was still a lad and was saddened over my own grandmother’s passing, ho ho! What an exhausting one he was. Sometimes I still have nightmares about the first night he slept-walked right out of the village, wrapped up in a dream that Hiryuu had called him.”

“What were the other three Hakuryuu like? Were they different from Lord Hakuryuu?”

“Hmm,” she mused, her glance falling to the ground. “I do not remember the first one I served very well. Mind you, I started serving our lords from the time I was but a babe. I spent the dawn of my life as his company in the dusk of his, as he had no children of his own. My grandmother used to say he was something fiercely hairy, like a big white bear. And a little black thing like me crawling all over him was laughable, she said… ah, nevermind the boring tales of an old maid. You are still in your own spring and should enjoy it.”

“Oh, do not worry, Granny, I have much to enjoy. But I am afraid spring is still frustratingly far away.”


	2. Un-yon and Hei

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Granny's childhood and youth, serving Hakuryuu Un-yon--three generations before Kija.

The funeral for the previous Hakuryuu had ended four days ago. Six-year-old Un-yon now had the title fully to himself, with only his proud mother and father to call him by his personal name, but a whole village to wait hand and foot on their beloved Lord Hakuryuu. They kept a respectful distance, not out of fear of his lethal white claws, but out of awe for the blood he inherited from generations and generations of holy warriors.

“Haku-roo!”

The call of the small child was not quite as surprising as the grip with which she clung to his right hand, burying her face as she cried into it.

“Hei!” Granny snapped, catching up to her as best she could on her tired old legs. The little girl paid her no mind, and the old woman looked to Un-yon, saying, “Pray forgive her, Lord Hakuryuu. She was very attached to the previous Hakuryuu, you see.”

“I remember seeing her with him,” he said, taking a glance at the top of her head. She was one of the few people in the village with black hair, so he’d have taken notice of her even if she had not always been climbing on his monstrously sized predecessor. Though he had provided him formal lectures over the use of his claws and the destiny he had inherited, the man usually preferred to spend his days quietly with only the little black-haired child and her grandmother for company. Un-yon had the distinct impression that the previous Hakuryuu did not like him, but apparently the same could not be said for the child wetting his sleeve with her snot.

“I will see to it that she does not bother you, My Lord. Hei, come now! Let go.” Hei only held on tighter, and Granny struggled over how hard she should pull while the child was attached to the holy white hand. “I apologize, she has been so spoiled.”

“I am in no pain, Granny. She can hold my hand if she likes.”

“But, Lord Hakuryuu, you need not trouble yourself with an unsightly little thing like her…”

“I like her,” he said, patting her head with his human hand. She looked up at him with big blue eyes seemingly made larger with tears, surprised as though she had expected to see a different face there.

“Haku-roo…?”

“Yes, I am Hakuryuu. Ah, I apologize, I am not  _your_  Hakuryuu. My name is Un-yon. Is your name Hei?”

She answered not with words, but by burying her face against his torso and wailing.

* * *

 

This was the sort of thing Un-yon would remember very well, but his little companion would have no recollection of. It came to mind again seven years later when he found her sulking, black tresses draping over her shoulders from under her hat and covering her sullen face.

“Hei, what is the matter with you?”

“I do not wish to tell you. I am too ashamed.”

“Alright, then.”

The moment he turned to leave, she spoke up—exactly as he predicted. “Granny told me that I teethed on the previous Hakuryuu’s fingers.”

The boy burst out into a hearty laugh, and she cried behind her hands in embarrassment. She took her hands away when she felt the light touch of dragon claws against them. “It would not have injured him, I assure you, even with your dragon teeth. If you still like them, you are welcome to mine.”

She turned away indignantly. “My dragon teeth are endearing! And I am no longer such an improper babe, Lord Hakuryuu! I turned 10-years-old this year, you know.”

“Yes, I know. You are a young lady now. Soon I suppose you will start practicing the Dragon Dance.”

“I think not. Serving my lord is of a much higher purpose, of course.”

“Granny does enough, I am sure she would not mind.”

“I do not want to. It would be silly of me.”

“Why would it be silly?”

“Because my hair is black!” she rolled her eyes with an exaggerated sigh. “It would not look right, everyone knows that. It would be humiliating.”

“I think it would be fine. After all, do you not find it funny that people with white hair perform the dance of a red dragon? Hahaha! What trouble I would be in if I could not recognize my master, as if he really had grey hair and lived among the village this whole time.”

“That would never happen! Lord Hiryuu’s radiant red locks must never have greyed! Even a Hakuryuu’s pure white locks never grey. They stay brighter and prettier and shinier than any normal white hair. Granny told me so.”

Un-yon’s face turned grim, but Hei did not notice. “Well then, I am sure you will be a beautiful old lady when all your hair turns grey.”

“I can only hope!” she plopped her face behind tucked knees, dramatically heaving a groan. “Will I even live long enough for all these black hairs to turn grey?”

“You are more likely to than I am.”

She shot him a sharp glance. “Dealing with that heavy attitude of yours is going to give me grey hair early, Lord Hakuryuu.”

“You are welcome. What if you were to dye it? The merchants may be able to look for such products while they are in the cities.”

“Hmm,” she pondered, taking one of the locks between her fingers. “Dyeing black hair white is likely impossible.”

“You should try red! I think that would look good.”

“Of course it would, red is the most beautiful.”

“Then perhaps my hair would take to the color well—”

“No! Absolutely not, Lord Hakuryuu! Never!”

“But you said red—”

“You must take pride in your beautiful white hair! It is a sign of the holy dragon blood of Hakuryuu!” she shouted, having risen to her feet. “Do not ever change it!  _Ever_!”

“Alright, Hei, I will not,” he laughed. “But I would like to think my master would recognize me no matter what, just as my blood would recognize him, red hair or no red hair.”

“Your blood?”

Un-yon nodded. “The previous Hakuryuu told me that when I meet my master someday, my blood will tell me it is him. Sometimes when I think about him, I feel like there are memories stirred up somewhere within me, and I feel my blood stir.” As he spoke, he put his dragon hand to his chest. “It echoes all the way through me, and I get dizzy and flushed, but I—”

“Lord Hakuryuu, are you ill? You must be ill!”

With her worried face practically pressed up against his own, Un-yon stopped. She would not understand. _No one_ would understand.

* * *

 

At his tender age, he still lacked the words to describe the delirious joy and pain.

The listless summers in the cool mountain air left Un-yon with nothing to do save pass the time, and he’d lounge in his wide house overlooking the village, sprawled out on his mat and listening, at first for the voices outside below, then the voices of insects, then his own heartbeat and the rushing of the dragon blood throughout his body. It was always a hurried rhythm. He could stay still for hours and listen to the rushing and howling inside of him. It was beautiful and alluring, but terrifying in that it seemed he could be engulfed by it at any moment.

* * *

 

Un-yon and Hei’s relationship remained close as they grew into adolescence, and Un-yon’s body grew into that of a warrior’s. Granny was the first to broach the topic of marriage to his parents, which they were more than happy to begin discussing. Un-yon was not opposed, but his anxiety to serve his master sapped him of excitement for the topic. After all, he would need to leave his bride the moment Hiryuu came. Someone who could understand the nature of his destiny would be ideal.

Hei had grown as well, and she kept her unsightly black hair modestly bound. She was aware of talk of Un-yon’s marriage almost as soon as he was, and he was curious about her thoughts but unsure how to broach the topic.

He found her one day at her mirror, massaging ointment into her face. “You know, Hei, for as much as you hate your hair, you certainly spend a lot of time on your skin.”

“I can only hope I will have something to show for my grey hair when I am an old lady,” she replied without looking away from her task.

“I am sure a husband could find things about you to appreciate in the meantime.”

“You jest, my lord. I have no suitors. Besides, I am perfectly occupied as your caretaker.”

He had a wry smirk and looked away. “I am not that much of a looker myself. This mustache cannot decide whether it is grass or moss.”

“That is quite alright, Lord Hakuryuu. It is your dragon blood on the inside that counts.”

The fact that she was completely serious made Un-yon want to both laugh and cry. “Then you do not deny it. We could make quite a pair, you and I.”

She laughed. “Most certainly not, my Lord! I already have the perfect match in mind for you. You deserve the prettiest girl in the village, and thankfully, she has the demeanor to match!”

Un-yon felt his heart sink.

* * *

 

The marriage matters were handed smoothly, and Un-yon found his bride agreeable and sweet, eager to please him in ways Hei would never venture to think of. Her fondness of him made him feel guilty about the necessity to leave her, but he thought it best to make the most of their time together. Hei was still constantly at his side and the first to correctly guess (and celebrate) when his wife was with child, but his conversations with Hei became fewer and fewer.  

His second son was born not long after the first, and soon he took a second wife, who bore him a daughter. These things made him happy, but not whole. None of his dear family members or village of caretakers could fill the hole that seemed to gape larger and larger, or relieve the chill that weighed against his shoulders, seemingly whispering throughout the night that Hiryuu needed him.

One night, the weight and chill were suffocating, and he was possessed by the urge to leave. He wasn’t sure where he would go, or if Hiryuu was even out there, but he was too restless to stay still. He was too tired of fighting the nagging sensation for years, and wanted to let go of control over his own body and let his hand take over and guide him.

The thought was invigorating. He would let his hand guide him,  _of course_! Why had it not occurred to him before? All this time, those faint voices had likely always been the call of his dragon blood, pushing him out and into action. How stupid he had been not to realize it—how stupid he had been not to follow it! Surely, his anxiety would be lifted once he was in the company of Hiryuu, once he tasted blood on his nails, once his white hand turned red—

“Lord Hakuryuu?”

Hei, 25-years-old at the time, approached him in the darkness of the middle of the village, near the pond. Her dark hair was unbound and her nightgown was loose around her figure, and in her expression, it was clear she saw something was different about Un-yon from usual.

“I apologize, Hei. I have to go.”

“You have to go to bed, that is where.”

“No, Hei, I—I have dawdled too long in this happy village. There are wars out at the borders. I must serve my king.”

“The king is some mere man of the Sky Tribe, not Hiryuu,” she calmed him with her hands on his cheeks, her blue eyes catching the dim light as she gazed at his. “You will not find a red dragon out there, my Lord. Your duty is to keep the blood of the white dragon safe until he seeks it.”

“What have I been born with this hand for if not to—”

“The same purpose for which all the previous Hakuryuu have been born with it, and which all the future Hakuryuu will be born with it. You must stay and see it so.”

“You do not understand, Hei. That is not what my hand has been telling me this entire time. How foolish I was not to understand it! I must leave right now. Please, Hei, if anyone can try to understand, it has to be you. I must—”

They were interpreted by an infant’s scream from the birthing hut, and the rise of the midwives’ excited voices.

Un-yon sank to his knees and leaned against Hei for support. Alarmed, she felt to see if he was feverish, only to find that he was in a cold sweat. “Lord Hakuryuu! Oh dear, you must be very ill! Here, lean over my shoulders, I will carry you, and then I will wake the doctor, and—”

“No, Hei,” he clenched her wrist to keep her from turning her back from him. She flinched in discomfort, but he only held on tighter, as if that would somehow keep the power from leaking out between his scales. “It is too late.”

“Do not be foolish—”

Hei’s ears at last picked out the words among the midwives’ voices, and she felt the blood drain from her face and legs. She sank before Un-yon, taking a glance back at his face. He stared wide-eyed at the ground, lips pursed, glowing white strands of hair falling along his pale cheeks.  

She took a deep breath, then gently held his head as she stared up at the starry sky. As she let the air out, it made white clouds, then the mist dispersed.


	3. Un-yon and En-ji

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Un-yon passes on the title of Hakuryuu to his successor, two generations before Kija

At the time, Hei did not accept Granny’s advice.

“You must not become too attached. Our clan’s destiny is to protect the dragon blood lineage until Hiryuu comes again. Until then, the fate of each Hakuryuu only begins once a new Hakuryuu is born, when he loses his title and call of the heavens. It is then that he must pass on his knowledge, whither, and face death.”

Un-yon would remain a close friend whom she cared dearly for, but as a caretaker, she would spend more and more time with baby En-ji, the new heir to the title of Lord Hakuryuu.

The first time they met was on the day of the child’s birth, before his formal presentation to the village (the villagers were, nonetheless, all aware and bustling with excitement and preparations for a grand celebration). Un-yon welcomed the proud parents and newborn into his home, where his wives and small children were present. They awed and cooed over the child with gleaming silver hair and matching tiny scales. Un-yon noticed how charmed his sons were, and suggested that they should be playmates, to which they and the gathered parents all excitedly agreed. He’d have excused himself then to lie down, but everyone insisted that he should hold the child, the heir of his dragon blood, a closer relative than anyone else in the village. He took a deep breath and agreed, and held the infant as gently as he would any of his own children. Hei could not tell why, but she felt relieved. Beyond that, her chest felt warm at the sight of two Hakuryuu together.

* * *

 

En-ji was a handful. Before he could form words well, he threw tantrums that left many caretakers with red scratches, or that involved throwing his head against the floor in screaming fits. Un-yon’s boys saw it their courageous duty to wrestle him down so that he would not injure himself, which would only make him fit and scream more until he either calmed down or went blue in the face and passed out from exhausting himself. The little boys developed methods for safely protecting their young master, and took pride in their dragon scratches. Hei would adoringly describe their feats to their father, who nodded and listened with a smile. “It seems my boys require no teaching from me. Once little Hakuryuu understands more words, the first thing I shall teach him will be self-control.”

This would be what Un-Yon seemed to lose faster than his powers.  
  
Experience had taught the village that the likely time to be attacked by bandits was while a Hakuryuu was still in his milk years. Among those wretched individuals over the centuries who had possessed knowledge of Hakuryuu Village and the White Dragon therein, they had often come up with the same ideas for attaining the power of the dragon’s right hand. The impatient would plan an attack that would attempt to sever the arm from the man, as, apart from the white and scaly appendage, he was but a mortal. Never was a bandit allowed close enough to test this method.  
  
The second, preferred by more patient masterminds, was to attempt a kidnapping so as to brainwash the wielder to suit their own ambitions. Those who attempted this had gotten closer, but none lived to share the wisdom of experience.  
  
Early on in En-ji’s life, there was one such attempt. Un-Yon felt the stirring of something amiss and immediately arose to protect the dragon blood, but before he could reach the edge of the village, the archers were already leading back their captives, smiling from the rare exhilaration of serving their master. “Oh, Previous Lord. You need not worry, for we have kept the young lord safe.”  
  
“My hand tells me this was my prey.”  
  
“Please, do not trouble yourself, my lord. We will cage and guard them through the night and you may decide their fate at your leisure tomorrow. There are still plenty of us remaining vigilant in the forest should anyone else approach.”  
  
“Then you have no need of me either? Am I not even able to protect this village?”  
  
The increasing pace with which he spoke alarmed them. “M-my lord, we have always handled these matters so as not to trouble you. Surely you must need your rest–”  
  
“Are these three all? Are they the only ones you caught?”  
  
“They are the only three we are aware of.”  
  
“Leave them here and stand back. If it is the claws of Hakuryuu they desire, I will give them to them.”  
  
The villagers were only half as shaken as the bandits, but there was no denying their lord. They took several steps back and the bandits scrambled after them pleading for mercy, but a hand of monstrous size they had never imagined swiftly overtook them and ended their miserable lives. The archers stood their ground as the blood splashed against their white cloaks, and they waited until Un-Yon had returned to his quarters before they cleaned up the mess he left behind.  
  
Un-Yon felt elated. It was the first time he had ever used his claws. They throbbed with bloodlust; they whined with sorrow with each day they grew weaker.

* * *

  
En-Ji was nearly four when the exchange of power became more rapid. Hei spent most of her days with him, tending to his mysterious fevers that often drove him delusional. “Something is not right,” she said, worry forming early wrinkles on her face. “He has no other symptoms, so I do not know what is making him so sick.”  
  
“Leave him be,” Granny said without looking away from her sewing. “It often happens as a Hakuryuu gains his power. A growing pain.”  
  
“But to be in so much distress, it must…”  
  
“Dragons are delicate creatures, Hei. That is why our clan must make such an effort to protect them from injury and illness.”  
  
She furrowed her brow, then excused herself. If she were to prepare a drink of healthy herbs, perhaps that would make him stronger against the fever, she thought. She should make extra for Un-Yon, as he had recently lost a lot of weight and taken up other troubling behaviors.  
  
She found Un-yon at his window, listlessly staring out over the village as dusk fell. “My Lord, you will catch a chill,” she forced a smile. At some point their conversations had become awkward. Apart from the time he spent telling En-ji about his responsibility as a dragon warrior, they did not see each other very often, and his family members and Granny usually took charge of his care. “It is late. Let me dress you for bed.”  
  
“Very well,” he gave her a weak smile and readied his arms. She slipped off his garments and gave them an inspection, finding dried trails of blood at the left shoulder and forearm-–results of absentminded scratching. She shot him an accusatory glance, and he apathetically smiled back.  
  
“You need to stop doing this,” she lectured, exactly as he anticipated. “Your wives are worried.”  
  
“And you? Any grey hairs yet?”  
  
“None in the least.”  
  
“I regret I will not last long enough to see them.”  
  
“You will still have a few years.”  
  
“Are you sure you do not have any yet?” He removed her hat and let her black tresses fall before she could answer or protest, but she soon did and reached for it back while bearing her dragon-like teeth. This elicited a chuckle from him. “Sit down and let me check. It has been so long since I have seen your black hair.”  
  
With a grimace, she did as she was told. “Wash that blood from your hand first.”  
  
They sat a while in silence, as her long hair required a long time to comb. Her face burned, ashamed with having a Hakuryuu take up such an unsightly task, and a panic stirring filled her breast as she thought of how long she had been there alone with him. At last, she could stand it no longer, and insisted that a master should not trouble himself with a servant’s grooming. In response he had them switch places so that she should comb his silver locks instead.  
  
They were notably thinning.  
  
He listened to the quiet of the night. The sound of the stirring in his blood was growing quieter, as if the memories deep within his blood were dimming. There was some harried stirring outside, and the far off hoot of an owl. There was sniffling.  
  
“Hei, are you getting snot in my hair?”  
  
“I would not dare!”  
  
“You never change. Sometimes it drives me crazy how little you change.”  
  
“And you continue to tease me, but I assure you, I will not be driven crazy by it!”  
  
“Indeed, you will not,” he replied ruefully, then took a glance at the shrinking, fading scales on his right hand. “There are worse things to be driven insane by. If you ask me, little Hakuryuu does not stand a chance.”  
  
She flashed hot with defense for her young charge. “What are you insinuating?”  
  
“Only that it is already getting to him. The stirring.”  
  
“Do not speak of him so–”  
  
“Hei! Where are you?” a panicked voice came from below. “Why were you not with Lord Hakuryuu?”  
  
She fled from the previous lord’s side to the window. “What has happened?”  
  
“He is missing. We cannot find him anywhere!”

* * *

 

Panic and guilt swept over Hei as she ran through the forest in the dark, not even having bothered to stop and prepare a torch. It was not long before she fell flat on her face. She felt a blunt pain and a rush of fluid from her nose, and she moaned.

She was immediately picked up from behind by Un-Yon, who had taken the time to bring a light. “Fretting will do no good, Hei.”

His lack of alacrity irked her. “It is all my fault for not being at his side.”

“His parents were sleeping in the same hut, were they not? They are even more to blame.”

“You are right! How could they have not noticed intruders? And the archers! Were they asleep on duty? Who knows where the kidnappers could be now!”

“With little Hakuryuu, of course,” he grinned, bearing his claws with excitement.

“Do not act like this is such a game!”

“You are hysterical, Hei. Leave this to me.” So saying, he walked in front of her, but she was not about to do as he said. As she took in a breath of air to vent more frustration at him, he stopped her and spoke again. “Our dragon blood calls out to each other. He is over here, not far away at all.”

They found him shortly, clawing at a tree as if trying to climb it, but clumsily sliding down to his rump after every few inches of an attempt. Hei was relieved but utterly confused. Un-Yon, though a bit disappointed, gently took the boy in his arms. “Where were you trying to go, little Hakuryuu?”

“Hiryuu,” he squeaked without opening his eyes, and he settled down against Un-Yon's chest with flushed, feverish cheeks. There was not another peep out of him. Un-Yon felt both a twinge of heavy sympathy and an urge to drop him.

Before he could render any action, Hei had already taken him, and she gave him a squeeze. “Thank the gods,” she said over and over. “I might have a few grey hairs now.”

Un-Yon was slow in choosing his response, and he sounded oddly disgruntled as he started marching back before her. “At this rate, you’ll dye all his hair red with that nose of yours.”

“I am fine, my lord! But you must be tired, let us get you to bed–”

He turned back and pinched her bloody nose with his weakening scaly fingers so suddenly she thought she had been blown back by a gust of wind. The torch light highlighted the twisted contours of his face as he spoke in a low, aggressive voice. “I will be confined to my bed soon enough.”


	4. En-ji and Granny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Un-yon gone, En-ji takes up the title of Hakuryuu, with only Hei for support.

That was the last night they ever spent alone in each other’s company. When Un-Yon passed away several months later, he was surrounded by Granny and his family, and his last words were to his oldest son, who was six years old at the time. “Un-Dae, take care of your mothers and your brother and sister. Take care of the villagers, they are all your precious family. Take care of Little Hakuryuu.  He will… need…”  
  
During the funeral procession, Hei held the small heir to the title in her arms as they looked on and listened to weepers. En-ji found it odd that she was not crying, as he knew she was close with his predecessor. “I am sorry,” he whispered with big peering eyes that glimmered in a way that only dragon eyes could.  
  
“You have nothing to apologize for, Lord Hakuryuu. You helped him fulfill his duty by taking up the role of the White Dragon. You have a place in a very important lineage, inheriting the blood and call of heaven from our ancestor, uninterrupted for eighty generations.”  
  
“But you will miss the previous Hakuryuu.”  
  
Her glance fell and she took a moment to consider her feelings and lack of sorrow before answering him. “You and he are different people, but you are bound by the dragon’s blood. His power exists in you exactly as it existed in him and in our ancestor, and exactly as it will exist in all the future Hakuryuu. There is something in that which I find quite beautiful.”

* * *

In the quaint and peaceful pace of life in Hakuryuu Village, funerals were not as frequent as celebrations, as longevity was the norm among most of the hearty villagers. En-ji had some recollection of the previous Hakuryuu’s funeral because it had been so grand, but Granny’s funeral when he was fourteen years of age left a deeper impact on him. Hei, forty by that time, had cropped her unsightly hair so that it would tuck under her hat more easily, and had long since taken over as En-ji’s primary caretaker. She was sad, of course, but did not feel terribly affected, despite that it was her own grandmother who had passed. “That is enough sobbing, Lord Hakuryuu,” she said, standing in the center of the room as he cried at the windowsill. “She lived well past ninety, so you must not be sad for her.”

“I am sad for _me_ ,” he protested. “I will miss her.”

“What will you miss?”

“That she was always nice to me and never scolded me.”

Hei could not contain the irritation across her face, and resisted saying that she only seemed nice because she had gotten too tired of providing any discipline, having left that authority to people energetic enough to face the dragon claw tantrums. Instead of making herself seem like the mean caretaker, Hei pressed him on. “What else will you miss?”

He had to think. “The way she patted my head, and, and her soup. I liked how she made soup.”

“I can make soup.”

“Your soup tastes like medicine,” he whined and started crying again.

“That is only because I value your health!” she raised her voice and bared her dragon-like teeth at him, which quieted him into submission as usual. With a heavy sigh, she rubbed his silvery head and continued in a calmer tone. “If you miss her so much, then you should call me ‘Granny.’ I will take up her legacy.”

“You, Miss Hei?” he blinked. “But you are not old enough to be a grandmother…”

“I may not have grey hair yet, but I will soon be old enough to be called Granny anyway. Why waste any time? Now, call me Granny!”

“But you are still too young and pretty.”

Unexpectedly, her cheeks flashed red, and En-ji was sure he had made her angry before she even sputtered out her response that he should not tell lies. He thought it best not to defend himself and instead do as she ordered, and from that day forth he started calling her Granny. The other children thought it was hilarious at first, but when they saw how Hei answered to it instead of getting angry like they thought she would, the name caught on.

* * *

 

En-ji remained rather listless and easily discouraged as he grew older, and his tantrums and sleep-walking episodes had occasionally reoccured.

One time, when Hei—now Granny—took him to the library of ancient records and told him to start studying his heritage, he did not get very far in a biography of a previous Hakuryuu before shredding the book with his claws. When scolded and asked why he would do such a thing, he started screaming semi-coherently about how he already knows, _he already knows_ , he does not need to be reminded. There was no salvaging that volume, but a look around the other books on the shelves revealed that a large number of them had scratches of unknown age.

Un-Dae, growing into the spitting image of his late father but with only human traits to speak of, often volunteered to help En-ji relieve stress by sparring with him, which En-ji always appreciated. They were careful not to hurt each other, but holding back wound up making them both work harder than they otherwise would, the extra challenge making their bouts all the more fun. Granny found it a relief to see him embracing his destiny as a warrior at those times, but at other times, he had only the presence of a white shadow.

His mother, proud though she always appeared, consulted Granny one day, still addressing her by ‘Miss Hei’ because of their close age. “I suppose he may only show his most unguarded sides to us,” she began, “but do you suppose he is a little more assertive when we are not present?” While waiting for an answer, her placid smile twitched.

Granny had often heard En-ji complain of his mother’s strictness, but she found it difficult to take his side. “If I may be so presumptuous, I believe you are asking me if there is any way to make him man up.”

She hung her head in resignation. “If you have any ideas, please.”

“Hmm,” she thought. “Sixteen is not too young for him to take a bride. Perfect, actually. That might wake up more of his protective inclinations. With your mother’s intuition, do you have any idea what his type might be?”

She frowned. “He only says Hiryuu’s name in his sleep.”

“That will not do. He has not breathed a word to me, but perhaps Un-Dae would know—oh! Un-Dae’s sister Urin, the previous Hakuryuu’s daughter! Would she not be perfect for him? She is very mild in temperament.”

“Yes, but is she not a bit young? To have her married off and widowed so early…”

Granny smiled seeing the sympathy in her eyes, but had no words of comfort for a mother who knew her child was to be short-lived. “You need not worry for her. Her father was a Hakuryuu, so I am sure she will accept it with pride. Besides, experience shows us that Hakuryuu are more likely to be born from among direct ties to previous Hakuryuu. It would probably skip a generation, but I guarantee it,” she gave her a feisty thumb up.  “They would have a future Hakuryuu among their descendants. After all, Lord Hakuryuu’s maternal great-grandfather was a Hakuryuu as well, was he not?”

“Indeed he was,” she puffed back up with renewed pride as her lineage was mentioned. “And the Hakuryuu of two generations ago was my husband’s first cousin once removed.”

“That is the spirit!” she laughed. “I am sure the two of them will be thrilled.”

* * *

 

They were less than thrilled. En-ji was thoroughly embarrassed and angered that this had been arranged without his knowledge, and Urin cried into her mother’s arms about not wanting to be married yet. This in turn embarrassed En-ji even further and drove him to apologize profusely to her, which she found endearing. To his surprise, she soon agreed, and the matter was settled before he still had much of an idea how to process what was going on.

Married life distracted him in ways he never gave much thought to, and the bliss chased away many of his nightmares and tantrums. Granny was very pleased to see the change in his demeanor, and she arranged a second wife for him, Ari. Her parents insisted upon their fine pedigree and her will to be a good wife who was skilled in combat so as to protect him—and as she had beaten out all the other willing suitors, no one argued. The whirlwind of happiness continued to make En-ji's head spin. Urin bore him a son, and before En-ji knew it, Granny had her eyes set on a young third wife for him, and assured him that the matter would be settled after she threw herself a big fiftieth birthday celebration the following year.

* * *

 

All plans had to be put on hold when the village was making preparations for winter, following a harsh summer with a dry autumn crop. Food reserves would run out weeks before the mountain greens of spring would grow, they could not afford to kill many of their livestock without risking the following year’s livelihood, and the animals they would hunt were already starting to hide away. The village elders called a meeting at the first signs of panic, but unfortunately, the lord whom they consulted was more panicked than anyone.

“I do not know what to do,” the 23-year-old year dragon searched all their faces for an answer they looked to him for. “This is not a task my blood prepares me for! Do not look to me for wisdom!”

“We have faith in whatever you tell us to do, Lord Hakuryuu.”

“Stop! Stop having faith in me, I cannot even fulfill my one purpose for being born!”

Granny saw a light of an old tantrum fire up in his eyes, and she immediately positioned herself in between him and the elders. “This is an issue of our economy, not something to trouble Lord Hakuryuu with. The village’s welfare is his welfare, and it is our clan’s mission to see to his welfare, is it not?”

“Yes, but we are at a loss. The animals have lost weight, so even if we slaughter and cure any of the yak, it will not last more than a month into heavy snowfall.”

“We have not lost all!” she insisted. “We can sell ointments and medicines made from the pure water of our pond. They will fetch a high price in the cities, and the merchants can use that money to purchase food before snowfall. Let us increase the number of merchants so that they can cover more ground in a short time.”

Amidst whispers of wondering since when they were capable of producing such products, others were immediately dismissive of the idea. “It is dangerous in the cities! And if too many people take notice of our merchants and our products, they will come to know about the village!”

“That is right! More exposure to the outside world can only be dangerous.”

“Exactly. Besides the spread of knowledge, they will bring back diseases we have no immunity to. We could all be wiped out before spring. What would become of the blood of the White Dragon then?”

“Then do you mean to let your current White Dragon starve? Silence!” one of the other elders retorted. “Never have we allowed a Hakuryuu to catch illness, and we will not start now.”

“Besides, even if there were to be an outbreak of disease, we would not have the medicine with which to treat it. That is something merchants could fetch and bring back. This is not merely a matter of food.”

Granny was emboldened by the supportive voices pushing back against the nay-sayers, and she went on in an authoritative voice. “To make this work in time, we will need everyone’s cooperation to prepare the products and train new merchants. I will teach the women how to make the products. The craftsmen should start producing small jars—not too large, that we might call them a rare product and sell them for a high price. They can be sold in bulk if need be to so as to return in time for winter. The able-bodied should open back up the old well so we have a second source of water for daily use. Forgive us, Lord Hakuryuu, but for the time being we will ask you to bathe with well-water instead.”

“No, that is quite alright,” he responded, having only half-followed the plan as it was spilled forth. “Is there anything else I should do?”

“No, my lord,” she smiled sweetly. “Leave everything to Granny and rest.”

* * *

 

He tried to do so, but he was listless. The preparation for heavy winter seemed to be coming along well, and Ari was busy with making ointments and health supplements, while Urin was busy with the baby. His hand ached as if telling himself he had to hurry and do something, but there was no purpose for it. The more people told him to rest, the less he was able to sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he felt the name ‘Hiryuu’ upon his lips, and a suffocating desire to see him made him even more chilled than the air outside.

The merchants departed; the merchants returned. Granny’s plans were extremely successful, and they had come back with an excess of food and resources. Winter was harsh, but the amount of snowfall promised a better summer to come. En-ji shivered terribly no matter how warm Granny and his wives tried to keep him.

As winter finally began to wane, his cousin gave birth to a Hakuryuu.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: Remember the guy in Hakuryuu Village with the mustache who showed Yona around? That is who I wrote Un-Dae as. Turns out, according to the fanbook released later on, that was Kija's uncle all along. XD


	5. En-ji and Gi-min

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The remainder of En-ji's life as his successor, Kija's father, takes his power.

A white dragon’s presentation to the village a month after his birth was always a grand celebration, with no feelings to spare for the previous dragon’s impending demise. The time to mourn would come later. The time to celebrate an heir came first. This celebration was the most joyous in recent village memory.

Not only had they survived the winter, but the heavens had rewarded their efforts with the birth of a new Hakuryuu, a promise that they would not perish and that the bloodline would continue. The timing for the celebration was good, as the forest weeds were beginning to grow again, and the animals were beginning to awake from their slumber. They had dried fruits remaining from their economic campaign of a few months before, many of which were offered first to Granny, in recognition for her leadership in crisis. She only accepted once she saw that En-ji had his fill, which was easy as they were seated next to each other as they watched the shadows of spinning dancers against the firelight. She scooted closer to him with a grin. “I suppose after all this there will be no point in throwing myself a birthday party this year. It is no matter. Tonight I already have something else to celebrate.”

En-ji raised his eyebrows but did not muster a smile. “What would that be? Our survival?”

She removed her hat and let her hair fall to her shoulders, a noticeable grey streak running from her temple to the tips. “My first greys! Look how many of them I gained over this season. We should have started having winters like this ages ago.”

“I do not know if I would have been able to stand it,” he replied with a shiver.

Her smile melted away with guilt. “Forgive me, Lord Hakuryuu. It is the greatest relief to me that you did not fall ill. You will feel better once the weather gets warmer, I am sure. We can arrange a third marriage for you by late summer.”

“Do not bother.”

“Do you have no interest in another wife? The girl is very charming—”

“Then let her find a different husband, Granny. I will be too weak to please her. Ari is irritated with my performance as well,” he sulked. No topic was too personal for Granny, and she immediately set her mind to thinking of how she might concoct a medicine to help. What she did not think of was what was obvious to Urin and Ari—that it was En-ji’s spirit which was sick.

* * *

 

The months that followed bolstered the villagers’ belief that the harsh winter they had endured was a test set before them by the heavens, and that they had triumphed and earned favor. Their gardens and animals flourished, and Gi-min, the growing young Hakuryuu, was a sturdy babe even without the use of his as yet dull claws.

On a hot summer day, Granny sat outside in the shade of the big tree with Gi-min’s mother, and the baby on a blanket before them. He recently mastered sitting up with his own strength, and was itching to start crawling soon.

Urin joined them with her cheerful tot, Yon-ji, a boy with a face like his father but dull as opposed to glimmering white features. He could walk with enough effort, but still preferred the speed at which he could crawl and get into trouble. There were many comments among the villagers that he and Gi-min would be good friends like En-ji was with the previous Hakuryuu’s sons. Granny felt it was only right, as the generational timing of the succession of Hakuryuu seemed to imply that the heavens wanted the White Dragon to always have close company. It was too perfect for it not to be by design.

Yon-ji was rather cooperative, as the smaller baby with a white hand naturally made him curious. When Urin set him down, he crawled straight up to Gi-min to make friends. Gi-min responded with a screech and scratch across the intruder’s face, immediately launching the tot into a scream of terror and pain. Granny was quick to hold Gi-min back but Urin was even faster to scoop her son up and examine his face, where the claw marks were bright red and miniscule spots of the skin had been torn under his left eye. No matter how small, the spots of blood were magnified in her vision, and she screamed.

“It is alright, Urin. Hakuryuu does not yet have any power in his claws. Put some ointment on it and it will not even leave a scar.”

“He could have killed him!” she screamed. “Someday he  _will_  have that power, and then what? Do you have ointment that restores the flesh?”

“Urin,” a calm voice came from behind her, and she turned to see En-ji approaching. “Let me see him.” She turned their son’s tear-stained face to show him, and he gently thumbed the scratches with his left hand, then blew on his face to make the sobbing tot catch his breath and calm himself. His wife looked to him to support her, but to her consternation, he took Granny’s side. “He will be alright. These are nothing more than normal baby scratches.”

“Lord Hakuryuu!” she protested.

En-ji walked past her and took a seat next to Gi-min, taking his hand in his own to observe the little white scales. For as poorly as Gi-min reacted to other strangers, he never cried in En-ji’s company. The former dragon rubbed his scaled thumb against Gi-min’s fingers and the back of his little hand, half a smile creeping to his lips. “It is rather cold.”

“That is not surprising, Lord Hakuryuu. It is a dragon’s hand, not a human hand.”

“Then do you suppose mine will get warmer?”

“Hmm. I do not know.”

“Then this child will take all these chills away from me.” He continued to stroke the little scales, and his half-smile stretched into a glazed grin. “I do hope he grows up soon.”

* * *

 

Gi-min did not have any close friends as Granny predicted, but language came to him early. He was at ease speaking congenially with anyone in the village, regardless of their age or hierarchy. He treated them all equally as people whose purpose it was to serve him, whose purpose it was to serve Hiryuu. He was most candid with Granny. She was the one to provide both discipline and spoiling, more than even his parents ventured to do as they maintained the same awe for their son and pride for his growing powers as anyone else. He carried himself like the tiny master of the clean and quiet little village. If anything, it took people by surprise when he acted like a small child and laughed as he played a game with the guards in which they’d hold out an iron pole for him to strike with his sharpening claws. Sometimes they would hold it in place, so that he could strike it as fast as he could, but other times they would surprise him by moving it around for him to chase. When they got too carried away with the fun and laughter, they held it out of his reach, and after he hopped for it a few times, he would flush red with anger and shout they were not supposed to be mean to Hakuryuu. From any other child this would prompt more teasing, but from the little lord Hakuryuu, it quieted them to slumping shoulders and heads hung low with guilt.

The one person Hakuryuu had any fear of—besides Granny—was his predecessor. It was not a terrifying fear, but one of respectful distance. Whenever En-ji approached, little Gi-min quieted, stood straight up at attention, and stared with wide eyes.

En-ji found it hilarious.

“He acts in the full manner of a Hakuryuu when I am not present, and then acts as though  _I_  still have the will of the heavens!” he laughed while lounging with his wives and son in his large abode one evening, as was their custom before his wives retired to their own huts below for the night. The nights they stayed over were decreasing as he felt more and more tired.  
  
“But Father is Lord Haku-roo,” Yon-ji spoke in a high voice behind him as he thumped his hands against En-ji’s shoulders to massage them.  
  
“I ceased to be Hakuryuu the moment he was born. The heavens tired of me,” he replied with a distant smile that bothered his wives in the pits of their stomachs.  
  
“Did Father tire of being Lord Haku-roo?”  
  
“I will never tire of it. That fire will burn in me forever, even when my body is cold and useless and dead.”  
  
“Dead?”  
  
“Do not speak of inauspicious things, my lord.”  
  
“Let him,” Ari shushed her sister wife. “Speaking openly of such things has a way of keeping them from coming.”  
  
“Like Granny’s greys, haha-–ah, my head. Yon-ji, please stop beating on me, it pains me now.”  
  
The flustered little boy moved away, and En-ji held his head and began to moan.

* * *

  
An hour later, Ari intruded at the house of Gi-min and his family, where Granny stayed in a room attached to the young lord’s. “Ssh, Lord Hakuryuu has just fallen asleep,” she hushed her as she met her in her night robe, her increasingly streaked hair falling past her shoulders. “What is the matter? Has something happened to the Previous Hakuryuu?”  
  
“He is asking for you, Granny. His head and stomach pain him greatly.”  
  
She wasted no time in reaching his side, where she found him curled with his face to the floor, his silvery hair all around his head and catching every glint of the light. With his left hand he clenched his forearm, and his dragon hand was enlarged with bulging veins and lengthened nails. It was a sight Granny only saw while the dragons were exercising or the rare times they were under stress, but she had never seen it four times the size of his human hand.  
  
It stirred no fear in her heart. She tiptoed forward, crouching down with a loud pop in her joints, and then she patted his head gently. “My Lord, Granny is here.”

He looked up, his face sticky with sweat and contorted by anguish. “Granny.”

“Come now, you are feverish. To bed with you.”

As either his muscles were too tight or too tired already, she guided him in crawling a short distance and then rolled him over to his back on his mat, settling his head down into her lap. She stroked it, and with half-closed eyes, he stared off. After a few moments, his dragon hand began to shrink. At last he squeaked out, “I want to see Hiryuu.”

“Of course, my lord. Our entire clan waits anxiously for his return.”

“My blood howls for it, Granny, you do not understand! Every voice inside my head says his name.”

“That is because your fever is so high. You have had these fevers since childhood. In the morning you will feel better.”

“I only wish… I only wish I could meet Hiryuu while I am still in possession of this hand. But it is too late, I am no longer in possession of the will of the heavens. Oh, Granny, I only want to see Hiryuu. I only want to see Hiryuu.”

* * *

 

The delusional fits decreased as Gi-min gained more of his power over the following years, and grew into a willful 7-year-old master of the village. By that time, everyone had grown out of calling En-ji ‘Lord Hakuryuu’ and settled into calling him ‘Previous Hakuryuu.’ It was still meant with the utmost respect, but it made the distinction between them clear.

En-ji was beginning to feel the rapid transfer of power that would likely spell his end over the next several months. What had begun as a slow leak from a full bowl of water that was occasionally disturbed, had become a constant trickle over the edge of the bowl. It was beginning to start a more constant flow, until in the end, the bowl would be flipped over and emptied entirely.

At least, that was how he had remembered receiving his powers. In the final months of Un-Yon’s life, his fevers were regular, and on the day of his death, En-ji felt as though he could not move as a waterfall poured over him, forcing him down into the bottom of a pool, denying him air and disorienting him with lights and sounds surging through the water after him, whispers of so many other halves all speaking the same name.

Though it was an idea that came to him through fever-induced imagination, he began to think he had figured out what those voices were.

* * *

 

While still on his feet and in control of a considerable amount of power, En-ji took a walk around the village with Urin, enjoying the early autumn wind. They came across Gi-min, who was sparing with Un-dae. The child had long since stopped giggling about hitting iron poles with his claws, but could not contain a smirk when he knocked Un-dae off balance.

“You are improving, Hakuryuu,” En-ji smiled as he approached. Gi-min’s smirk immediately disappeared into a face so serious it looked like a glare, and he stood at attention. “Holding back against Un-dae must be tiring, is it not? I remember that well from our days of sparing.”

“I would never hurt any of the villagers.”

“Haha, yes, but you would like to use your power, right? So would I. How about the two of us spar?”

“Previous Hakuryuu, no! What if you harm him?”

“And what about your health?”

The siblings’ protests were nullified by the glow around Gi-min’s face as he lit up with excitement. “Yes, please! I want to spar!”

“It will be fine. He is likely only a little stronger than me now,” the previous Hakuryuu looked to his companions. “It is such a shame that I was never able to use my hand in combat, so I would like to enjoy this as well.” So saying, his claws and fingers twitched and grew to twice their size. Gi-min flexed his hand, and it did the same. Un-dae and Urin watched with a mix of awe and horror.

En-ji told the boy to come at him first, which Gi-min obliged before En-ji had finished his statement. The previous Hakuryuu took a step to the side and let him stumble forward, then he grabbed his head and shoulders from behind and tossed him to the left, landing the boy flat on his rump. Surprised that he was already on the ground, Gi-min shook it off with a glare and bounded back to his feet to charge again, yelling as he drove his hand forward. En-ji caught his claws against his own, gave a push, and Gi-min fell again. As he launched himself back up, the boy took a sharp, sweeping strike toward En-ji’s torso, but the predecessor caught his claws against his own. They parried a few strikes against each other’s hands, but Gi-min had been so focused on landing a hit that he neglected to defend himself. When En-ji moved out of the way of a forward thrust, he engulfed the boy’s face with his dragon hand, and then gave him a shake as he threw him out of the way.

“You put yourself in too deep,” the older one said as he approached. “You will be killed right away in Hiryuu’s service if you keep that up.”

Gi-min flushed red and pursed his lips, making no verbal response. He stared back at En-ji with fierce eyes as the man got closer, and he stayed completely still as En-ji bent down near his ear with a grin.

“I will see it if you show Hiryuu such a poor performance, and I will be angry.”

His voice was loud enough for Un-dae and Urin to hear, and she was the first to react. “My Lord!” she scolded, and then pulled him up by his shoulders to make him stand behind her. She turned back to Gi-min with a deep bow. “I am terribly sorry, Lord Hakuryuu. He has said something strange to you. Please forgive his offense.”

She tried to urge him to go, but as he started to walk away, En-ji looked back over his shoulder to flash Gi-min another grin. “I have not had so many chills as of late. For that, I thank you.”

“My Lord!” she shushed him and tugged him away.

Un-dae was unsure what to make of his comments, but recognized that the change in En-ji’s personality was similar to the changes he had noticed in his father. He felt sympathetic, but powerless to help his friend. At the very least, he could try to make sure the young Hakuryuu would not be hurt by it. “I apologize on his behalf, Lord Hakuryuu. It is very difficult for a successor at this time.”

To his surprise, Gi-min was beaming with flushed cheeks and a smile.

“Lord Hakuryuu?”

“The Previous Hakuryuu has so much passion,” he said.

* * *

 

Gi-min took something else away from that exchange, which transformed and cemented itself in his mind with every day his powers grew stronger. While speaking with his mother and father one day at his mother’s bedside, as she had fallen ill, he inquired about En-ji’s condition.

“Granny has excused herself for today to be at his side,” his father said. “She apologizes. We can call for assistance to see to your needs.”

“I am almost eight years old; I can put myself to bed. The servants should help mother.”

“My son,” she gave him a weak smile. “The servants are for you. We are proud to have brought you into the world and continued the dragon line, but we are but your servants as well.”

“You are my parents!” he protested. “In this village I honor you most! Almost as much as the Previous Hakuryuu and Granny!”

She held a hand to his cheek. “You are such a darling child. You are only mine for a short time, Gi-min. Soon the Previous Hakuryuu will pass away, and I will need to share you with the entire village. They are all your family.”

“But the village will not have me long either. I will belong to Hiryuu the moment he comes.”

“Indeed, your dragon blood places you on a different plain than us, one closer to the heavens,” his father said. “Only you and your distant dragon brothers occupy that space.”

He frowned. “Yes, I suppose that is right. The only ones who share this blood with me are very far away.”

“I hope knowing they are out there somewhere gives you some comfort.”

Gi-min shook his head. “I will meet them one day, I am certain. After all, Hiryuu will be born during my lifetime, I am sure of it.”

His parents smiled back. “That would be nice, would it not? Our clan has waited so long for him.”

“I am certain of it! It will be during my lifetime. I will serve Hiryuu. I apologize, Mother, Father. I will not be yours for long.”

* * *

 

Granny was not able to return to Gi-min’s side until very late that night, as En-ji had been delirious, going between fits of laughter and garbled predictions about the fate of his blood and his soul, and cries of anguish and calling out Hiryuu’s name. She could not recall Un-yon ever having been as bad in the four years he lasted, but she remembered his warning. He said that En-ji did not stand a chance.

“Granny,” Ari approached, stepping and speaking quietly so as not to wake their sleeping master. She took a seat in front of the old lady, then made a formal bow. “I request that Urin be divorced from Lord Hakuryuu.”

“What?” she was taken aback. Nothing had seemed amiss in the couple’s relationship, nor in the relationship between the sister wives. “Whatever brought this about?”

“Urin is weak-willed. The other day in idle chat, she said, ‘Do you not think it is odd that this village treasures a monster?’ and spoke of how it made her feel sick. She said other hurtful things about the holy hand of Hakuryuu as well. If you wish, I will you tell you them all—”

“Urin said such a thing?” gaped Granny. She put a hand to her head as she tried to process such an absurd thing for the girl to utter. “As a member of our clan, how could she possibly be repulsed by the holy hand of the White Dragon? Her own flesh and blood was the Previous Hakuryuu!”

“Our lord’s decline has been too hard on her, and I am afraid that she will make things harder on him like this. And she will taint his son with horrid talk like that! I will adopt Yon-ji as my own and raise him with pride fitting for a Hakuryuu’s son.”

“Has the Previous Hakuryuu said anything about this matter?”

“No. As far as I am aware, I am the only one to whom Urin has yet said such things. She still allows our lord to hold her hand while he is in pain.”

Granny’s glance fell to the floor as she thought for a moment. “Let us wait and see what happens.”

“But Granny—”

“A sudden separation might put more stress on him. She may have only said something absurd like that under stress.”

Ari furrowed her brows back at her, but accepted her decision. Although Urin was careful not to say anything else which Ari noticed, En-ji’s decline became more and more rapid, until there was only a faint trace of scales remaining on his hand, and hardly anything but skin clinging to his bones. It was a monstrous sight in a different sense.

* * *

 

The funeral for Gi-min’s mother had the young dragon distracted, and within hours of her burial he sprang up to his feet with a gasp. “Granny!” he called. “Granny, come quickly!”

She burst through the door within a moment, flying to his side as he squeezed his right forearm, gritted his teeth, and let sweat fall down in buckets.  “My lord, what is the matter? Are you in pain?”

“The Previous Hakuryuu,” he grunted. “He is dying!”

Granny was too late. By the time she arrived, En-ji had already passed, and his parents, wives, and son were crying at his side. Gi-min arrived shortly behind her, helped along by his father as he was fighting dizziness. He did not have a chance to catch his breath before he saw the cloth placed over En-ji’s face, and he let out only a squeak of a scream.

The sound caught Urin’s attention, and she turned toward him with hot tears and screamed back, "Get out of here! You’re the monster that killed my husband and would rip my own son apart given the chance! Monster! You’re a _monster_!”


	6. Hakuryuu Gi-min

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kija's father's youth, waiting for Hiryuu.

In the mourning period that followed, Gi-min did not attend the funeral rites or procession, as he was gripped with a fever. He had not been as prone to them as his predecessor, but those four days were the most miserable he had ever known.  
  
In his sporadic moments of consciousness, he complained of his chest feeling so heavy that he might collapse in on himself. Granny would not speak a word of it, but she feared another funeral possession might be in order. Dragons are fragile creatures, she reminded herself, and swallowed her fears as she sponged the sweat off of him with a cold towel. His hand was especially hot to the touch, so much so that steam lifted off from it, but his teeth chattered as if he was frozen even in the hot summer air.  
  
From the window, Granny watched and listened as En-ji’s funeral procession went by, apologizing in her heart for not attending. She noticed as his family walked by; Ari had her hands on his son Yon-ji’s shoulders, while Urin walked between her brothers, her face lowered and veiled. Un-Dae had promised to see to her welfare, and had taken her into his home until a hut could be constructed for her on the quiet outskirts of the village, away from the bustling village life; away from the eyes and ears of their small community.  
  
When Gi-min’s fever finally started to break, he was sluggish and unlike his usual self, but seeing him awake and in less pain made Granny so relieved that she spoke rapidly. “Quick, drink this medicine I made for you. No, water first! You must need so must water, after all that sweat. Drink some water. Here, Granny will help. Heavens, if this happens again I will lose all my stubborn black hairs before I’m sixty. Are you hungry? Of course, you must be hungry. The mourning period for the Previous Hakuryuu has not ended yet, but it is no matter, we will slaughter any animal to for you to get your strength back.”  
  
“I do not want… meat yet… berries…”  
  
“Of course, of course, something sweet! Oh, and please pay no mind to the words of the Previous Hakuryuu’s wife. We will handle her accordingly.”  
  
“She said something?” he have her a drowsy look. “I remember nothing…”  
  
“You do not? Ah, that is good then. Do not trouble yourself over it.”  
  
“When are… the funeral rites…?”  
  
“The Previous Hakuryuu has already been buried, my lord.”  
  
His eyes shot wide, and he showed his fangs and sat up as he snapped back, “You held the rites without me? But I am his successor!”  
  
“There was no way you could have attended in that state! You can offer incense for him once you recover.”  
  
“I will offer incense for him now,” he stood and declared, grabbing a robe to dress himself.  
  
“That can wait until you have more of your strength back-–”  
  
“I will offer incense now!” he protested, swaying. He put a hand to his head and steadied himself before Granny could catch him, and certain that he would spite the spinning room with his willpower, he headed towards the exit. “I am the only person in this village who would understand the unrest in his soul. None of you could ever understand a Hakuryuu. Ever!”  
  
At the very least, Granny was happy to see some of his fire back, and she and his father assisted the unsteady child in making an offering before the freshly sealed tomb. It had a door carved with the seal of the dragon found on every door of the village, a constant reminder of their clans’ heritage and mission. As the living hand of Hakuryuu was considered the most sacred thing in the village, they had no temple. A temporary altar was set before the grave, one along a trail of them against the mountainside, and there was hardly any space among the flowers and fruits–-all white and red, in honor of the dragon blood they protected, and for the king whom they awaited. Gi-min made a solemn promise before the altar that he would not disappoint him when Hiryuu came.

* * *

  
In the following years, Gi-min remained in perfect health, and often spoke of his upcoming mission to Granny, who always responded that yes, someday, Hakuryuu would be called to serve their king once again, as everyone in the history of their clan had prepared for, and as future generations would continue to do so. As he grew older and more willful, he spoke of how he wanted the merchants to learn more about the country so that he might have a better idea where he might find Hiryuu. The merchants obliged and told him about the other tribes and their politics and products, but his motives made Granny nervous. It was as if he had no eyes for the village around him, and that soon his feet would follow his gaze.

It was with great relief that she overheard him make a sudden comment one day a few months after his sixteenth birthday. He was staring over his shoulder at one of the village maidens, and said, “That girl is very pretty.” Granny wasted no time in investigating the girl’s lineage for suitability, arranging a meeting for the girl named Harin and her parents with Gi-min and his father, and looking up auspicious dates for a wedding ceremony in the coming season. With a song under her voice as she prepared the incense and flowers for the meeting to help set a conversational mood between the youth, she assured her young master that everything would go well, and that he had nothing to be nervous about. “I do not doubt that she will agree,” he muttered, “but do you think she will like me as more than Hakuryuu?”

“I am certain of it,” she gave him a thumb up. “You are the prettiest Hakuryuu yet!”

The meeting went smoothly, as did the wedding. For the time being, Gi-min did not speak of leaving the village. What’s more, the following year, the parents of a girl named Yuna consulted with Granny, saying their daughter had fallen in love with Lord Hakuryuu and had fallen ill pining for him. Granny knew of the girl and had also thought she was pretty, and she had no trouble talking Gi-min into taking a second wife. Yuna made an immediate recovery and bore him a daughter by the following year after that, which upset Harin until she found she had conceived as well. The sister wives were initially opposed to each other, but soon bonded as they raised their daughters together.

* * *

 

His life was happy, blissfully so. So blissful it irritated him; it felt as though each happy day bore a deeper and deeper hole into his soul. As much as he loved Granny and his wives and his doting daughters, that hole could only be filled by Hiryuu. He remembered the plans he contemplated years ago, and in his early twenties, he began to plan for them in earnest in his heart. It possessed more and more of his thoughts, and he let comments slip, like “my master would be fighting at the front lines. It seems there are gains in territory being made at the border with Kai,” and “surely my master cannot be troubled with coming all the way to a secluded mountain village such as this.”

These were hints enough for Granny, who scouted a third wife for him, Nam-hi, from among the village girls. With his father’s encouragement, Gi-min agreed to marry her. Another year later, Harin bore him another daughter, and despite the occasional squabbles with the fresher and newer bride, once they fell into a pattern of sharing their husband there was a relative peace attained in his domestic life.

* * *

 

Peace once again gave way to restlessness. By the time he was twenty-eight and Granny had just turned seventy-eight, her hair now so grey that she could pluck away the pesky black hairs, he openly stated his intentions to leave the village. Only for a quick look. Only to check. Only in case Hiryuu would miss him otherwise. The very declaration made Granny faint.

She was in perfect health, aside from the crackling in her joints, but the fainting spell proved useful. Putting up as best an act she could, she pretended to be ill and begged him not to leave her. He agreed to wait until she had recovered, but at the very mention of it she would act pained again—though that act came more easily. He stopped mentioning it aloud, and over the months that followed, he let the thought die again.

* * *

 

Winter was mild, and Granny’s health seemed to rebound. The weather for his birthday celebration was fair, and the fire did not have to fight against the remaining winter wind as it usually did. The days were still short enough that the celebration started early and would go on longer than those of any summer celebrations, but the Dragon Dance would never begin until he had his fill of at least a few courses of food and relaxed with the wine made with the village’s pure water.

The celebration had much the same flow it did every year, the same people making the same greetings, the same joy that everyone shared as much on their own behalves as for his. It was pleasant, but tiring saying the same things every year, thanking everyone just the same as always. The party quieted down into pockets of unstructured activity as some children grew tired and some archers—whose turn it was to be off duty that year-–reached various states of drunkenness.  The village maidens filed in front of the fire and struck a practiced pose, waiting for the music to begin, and their shadows seemed striking against the larger than usual flames. They all looked down over their right shoulders with their arms raised to the left, backs curving, and one straight leg and a pointed toe, all waiting with perfect control but energy bubbling up inside of them. Much like him and his dragon hand, he thought.

He paused on the profile of one of the girls, as her nose was higher and more pointed than the rest, a striking feature among a village of people with rounded button noses. Suddenly, she spun her head straight towards him as the music began, and he felt startled as though she had caught him staring. It was soon apparent that she did not, as she was completely absorbed in the rhythm and movements, her body moving as though guided by blood rather than thought, and a smile on her face that seemed to suggest she’d surrendered herself to the centrifugal force. Long though the Dragon Dance was, and as little as anyone expected a single person to be watching to the very end, he never took his eyes off of her.

At the end of the Dragon Dance, it was customary that one of the maidens should present a necklace of red flowers to Hakuryuu that he should place over his head himself, and another would present a corsage of white flowers and place it on his right hand herself. Something in him twinged with excitement when the dance ended and she walked towards him with three of the other dancers. She had noticed him staring, hadn’t she? No, nothing on her face suggested such. As demurely as the others, she bowed her head and kept her glance low, and she took the necklace of red flowers from the girl behind her while another took the white corsage. He raised both hands so that the girls may place their respective flowers, and he took that moment to do something unusual. When the red flowers touched his left palm, he immediately grabbed tight hold of her fingertips. He took pleasure in seeing surprise light up her face so he could see her features better—bright, wide eyes that caught the lantern glow, smooth white skin, lips colored bright red.   
  
“Your dancing,” he said, “was remarkable. It felt as though my soul danced with you.”

Her eyes grew even wider as she flushed red, but she could make no response as the other dancers squealed and his wives heaved loud gasps. The giggling maidens pushed her to a respectful distance and then dragged her away to join all the other dancers, and he was left with his hand still in the air clutching the necklace. Nam-hi coughed at his side. “Those young girls wear such heavy perfume nowadays. I felt like I could hardly breathe.”

“It does have a way of leaving one breathless,” he agreed with a whiff of the red flowers before placing them over his head.


	7. Gi-min and Mun-hi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The courtship of Kija's parents, blissfully unaware that the next Hakuryuu would come soon. Well, not entirely blissful.

The following day many of the villagers were recovering from drunkenness, so the village center was quiet. On his morning stroll out to wash his face at the pond, Gi-min noticed a young girl leaning against the large tree. In daylight and plain clothes she looked completely different, but perfume and red lipstick jogged his memory. She lit up upon seeing him and approached him with a smile. “Lord Hakuryuu, do you remember me from last night?”

“Of course. You were the dancer.”

“Yes,” she said. “My name is Mun-hi. I turned seventeen four months ago. The seventy-eighth Hakuryuu was my great-great uncle. I have been practicing the Dragon Dance for six years.”

“It seems that it took you that long to perfect it.”

She paused, at first flattered until she thought the better of it and felt a flash of offense, but she let it go. “Thank you very much for your compliments. I always put my soul into my dancing, so it really is as though we—”

“Lord Hakuryuu, your towel!” Granny called out as she burst through the hanging cloth door, still heavy for winter. Her joints creaked and made her growl down at her legs for slowing her down. When she looked back up, she saw she was interrupting their conversation, and could not make a word out before Mun-hi held out a plate of sesame seed dumplings.

“Please partake of these with your morning meal, Lord Hakuryuu!”

“How thoughtful of you,” he took the plate. “Though I am still quite full from yesterday’s banquet. I will have my daughters enjoy them in my stead, and I am sure they will be delighted.”

She frowned. “They are in honor of  _your_  birthday, not theirs.”

“My birthday was yesterday. Thank you anyway.”

Her frustrated glance darted between him and Granny, who was watching with wide eyes. “Then it will not matter if I make something else for you simply on the occasion of your being hungry!” So saying, she dashed off.

Granny reached Gi-min’s side, and she gave him an amused look. “Who was that?”

“Her name is Mun-hi, she is seventeen years old, she has been practicing the Dragon Dance for six years, and she is the great-great niece of a previous Hakuryuu. Or so she told me,” he said, in a way he knew would make Granny laugh with him.

* * *

 

The following week, Mun-hi approached him again, but as the villagers had sobered up there was no spot without onlookers where one could encounter the white dragon. She waited by the large tree in the center of the village again, as he was sure to pass by there. Again, she beamed and approached when they made eye contact, though she completely ignored the stares of Harin and her three-year-old daughter. “Lord Hakuryuu!” she said, then held out a small bag with a string.

“Sesame seed dumplings?”

“Walnut dumplings!”

“You must have quite a taste for sweets.”

“These should not be too sweet for your liking,” she flashed him a smile, then frowned deeply. “If I might confess, Lord Hakuryuu, I was quiet jealous on the night of your birthday when I presented flowers to you.”

“Jealous? Whatever for?”

“I ever so wanted to be the girl with the white flowers, as it would have given me the chance to touch your dragon hand!” she acted as though she would cry, and then humbly held out her hands. “If I may be so bold as to ask…?”

He smirked and offered his hand. “Very well.”

She took it with extreme gentleness and fondness, letting out a sigh of admiration. “What strong, wonderful scales,” she said, stroking his palm with her thumbs, and then drawing it closer and planting it across her bosom. “What a dear, precious hand this is.” Her expression betrayed her tone, as she looked up to him and dared him to do as he pleased. Harin and the surrounding villagers were shocked into silence.

Gi-min was nearly as surprised, but remained calm and made no movement with his captured hand. He raised an eyebrow and gave her a smirk. “This hand is holy, you know.”

“I am fully aware.”

He waited for a response to come to him, but one did not. After another moment of well-watched silence, he withdrew his hand and turned away, wished her a good day, and departed. Clever responses came into his head throughout the day, but those zingers were all far too late to use. What’s more, they were little use as his wives hounded him about the episode, the other two having heard all about it from Harin.

Granny was also present, and her eyes widened almost as much as her mouth had dropped. “She did that?” she exclaimed, unable to control her dragon-tooth-filled smile. It was the most outrageously entertaining thing she had heard in many quiet years, but she had to control her giggles as Gi-min growled in his own defense.

“You saw, I did nothing indecent! Do not speak at though this is my problem!”

“But you did touch her, did you not? Oh, there are  _choice_  words for her type in the cities, I hear!”

“Do not go near that brazen brat!”

“ _I_  was the one who was approached!”

“Sullying the holy hand of Hakuryuu like that. How dreadfully obscene!”

“That is putting it too harshly,” Granny butted in. “The lord of our village is not held to such strict standards, and rendezvous with anyone who strikes his fancy are permissible. It is only important that parentage be clear for any resulting children—”

“Granny, please!” he protested. “What kind of man do you take me for?”

“A man.”

“ _Granny_!”

“I know, I understand. If the situation bothers you, then simply ask her nicely to keep her distance.”

* * *

 

The wives took it upon themselves to do that, watchfully making sure Mun-hi’s chance meetings with Gi-min would be few. He found it suffocating and ridiculous that they should guard him at all times and cast daggers with their eyes all day, but asking them to keep their distance was of no use.

Mun-hi responded by wearing more perfume so that her scent could reach him even when she herself could not. She started going out of her way to go to places he would before he’d get there, just to spite the wives who could smell her traces. Nam-hi could no longer stand being patient, and marched over one day to scold the girl eight years her junior, as her husband could not sway her to stop and followed helplessly. “Listen, you… _you_ … there are many things I would think to call you! Surely you know that what you are doing is wrong!”

Mun-hi gave her a defiant stare. “And what I have done that is wrong?”

“Do not act innocent! Everyone knows exactly what schemes are in that little head of yours. Adultery! You are an adulteress! You know why it is wrong. Falsified lineage of any offspring is a grave sin. It is a matter of the health and survival of our clan, and the secure inheritance of the dragon blood!”

“So you are saying that there would be no problem if I were to marry Lord Hakuryuu, is that correct?”

“Excuse me?” he said, not hiding his annoyance in the least.

“I could offer you any entertainment and services if I were your wife, is that correct?”

“You have already offered me a feel.”

She smiled, quite pleased. “And you accepted for quite some time, if I remember.”

“I did not say you offered me much.”

“It seems anything perceived with the dragon hand would only be as much. Perhaps you should compare with your smaller hand for a better representation.”

Nam-hi screamed and stomped her foot, then began marching away. Gi-min called her name and turned after her, shooting Mun-hi a scolding glance. She accepted it with the same smile, quite pleased with herself.

* * *

 

The scene of course drew others’ attention, and the other villagers cautioned Mun-hi not to upset their master and his wives, and she politely accepted their advice and assured them she only wished to please Lord Hakuryuu. Granny kept an eye on the girl, curious about her actions, and hoping that she was not hurt by all the negative attention. It seemed to bounce off of her completely, if not dare her into going further. She only seemed irritated when she was barred from getting anywhere close to Gi-min to go back on the attack. Granny found herself rooting for her.

One muggy summer evening, while the pure water of the pond was being drawn and heated up for Gi-min’s bath, Granny noticed Mun-hi approach. She was being sly, checking over her shoulders for any onlookers, but she did not notice Granny peeking through the curtains from Gi-min’s abode. Naturally, Granny watched with increasing interest as Mun-hi poured something in the water and then ran away. With her wrinkled old fingers to her lips she kept herself from exclaiming with a laugh that it was a love potion, but duty caught the better of her and she went to investigate to be sure it was nothing that would harm her master.

It was merely perfume, she soon deduced. A fragrance that Gi-min and his wives would be sure to recognize, but it was hard to detect in the unusually humid air filled with so many other scents. For a moment she wondered if she should have clean water prepared so as to save her lord some trouble, but she quickly dismissed that thought. He was an antsy dragon and needed a little drama in his life, and Granny justified her own need for a little entertainment as well.

Following Gi-min’s bath, he went to his abode to retire for the night and apologized to Nam-hi, who had been waiting for him, for being so late. As she was especially sensitive to it, she noted the lingering fragrance, flew into hysterics, and began to scream at him for his infidelity. As the other wives’ houses were first among those nearby, Harin and Yuna heard as well, and invited themselves in to demand an explanation and console their sobbing sister wife. Their voices could be heard well into the night, and all three refused to offer their company for the next few days.

This gave Mun-hi an opening to catch him during an early morning step out to wash his face, as there was only Granny to wake him. As he could not sleep, he did not require this, and he tiptoed out to let the old woman rest. It was shortly before sunrise, and he had the open center of the village to himself—or so he thought. Mun-hi appeared at his side as soon as he took his face out from his wet hands, and she offered him both a towel and a bright smile. “You forgot this, my lord.”

“Do you wait here every morning?”

“I take what chances I can get.”

“Or you make them yourself. You are so aggressive.”

“I would call myself assertive. My desire to serve you is strong, Lord Hakuryuu.”

“I noticed.”

“Good.”

“It is strong to the point of brazenness. No good can come of breaking all the social harmony of the village, much less my domestic harmony!”

She sharpened her glance. “Then I should deny what my heart tells me in favor of social rules? It is too sincere to obey such flimsy things.”

“You are too daring—” he started to raise his voice, but stopped himself, a lump forming in his throat.

He was a coward. He was an absolute coward, letting a fragile thing like the harmony of the quiet village keep him from following his heart—following his _blood_. Surely, his call had to be infinitely stronger than any hormones of a young maiden, yet his will to follow it was pathetic. What a disappointment he would be to his master if he could not even summon the gutsiness of a love-struck girl.

How could this girl be so much more formidable than him?

He squeezed his hand and gritted his teeth, causing Mun-hi to lean closer, concern wiping away her coyness. “Lord Hakuryuu?”

“You drive me insane.”

“…In what way?”

He answered by grabbing the back of her head and pulling her to his face, then he gave her a deep kiss she had not taken a breath of air to be ready for. When he pulled away, she took a quick gasp and gave him a bewildered look, her face hot and red and wet from the water he had not yet dried off. He glared, then said, “I might as well do what I am already being punished for.” Gently tossing her away, he took the towel, stood up, and then returned to his abode.

* * *

 

They were not without witnesses, as early risers within their huts awakened to the sounds of their voices outside. Soon most of the closest people in Gi-min’s circle knew about it, and Granny was sorely disappointed she hadn’t been awake to spy on them.

What’s more, Mun-hi was ecstatic and took sly opportunities to gloat, even going so far as to join other conversations about their wonderful Hakuryuu and add that he is a good kisser. She was staking her claim and position as his lover, and many of the villagers were beginning to feel that this had been normal for a while, and would never have questioned his actions in the first place.

Mun-hi, however, was not immune to social pressure. As talk quickly circulated, the girl’s parents were mortified, and threatened to disown her for the shame she was bringing upon their family line. She started to feel anxious, as she had no more contact with Gi-min since then, and no more indication of if he would care for her when her family would not. If they rejected her, then the village would reject her, and she would be stuck living in the shambles of an outer hut where those of undesirable character lived, far away without any chance encounters with Lord Hakuryuu, and socially abandoned with no way to reintegrate.

She did not want to be forced to the outside huts. She wanted to stay in the center of the village, she wanted to stay in everyone’s line of sight when she danced, she wanted to stay by Lord Hakuryuu’s side. If only he would take her away from her angered parents, if only she could still enchant him like she managed to do that one night.

* * *

 

As Gi-min’s personal life was in an uproar, Granny knew the situation had gone too far, and at his wives’ insistence that something be done about this she called a meeting. Gi-min was seated on the floor a short distance away from Mun-hi, who hung her head like her parents did behind her. Granny sat across from them, with Harin, Yuna, and Nam-hi behind her with sour expressions as though following her as a general in war. The elders sat behind them, feeling the entire situation was very awkward. They took no issue with their lord indulging in his passions, if that was what made him happy and she was not too close of a relative.

Granny took a deep breath and looked between them. Neither looked back. Mun-hi looked as if she was holding back tears of fear and shame, and Gi-min kept his glance towards the wall, irate at being subjected to this confrontation. At last, Granny spoke. “We are all aware of the rumors, so if you would not mind, would you please tell us if anything has happened between you?”

“We kissed at dawn one morning,” Mun-hi quickly confessed.

“Is that all?”

“That is all.”

“I am not convinced, Granny! Lord Hakuryuu clearly smelled of her perfume—”

“Quiet, dear. That was only perfume in the bathwater that you fell for. Now, please be honest here before everyone, as we all must trust each other in this village. Is that all? One kiss?”

“He did hold my hand at his birthday celebration. And he accepted the…  _things_  I offered him.”

“There is nothing here worth getting upset over,” Granny heaved a heavy sigh. “This is merely what our Lord Hakuryuu has found some joy in, it is nothing scandalous.”

“Granny,” he rolled his eyes. “You know as well as everyone else that at this rate we  _will_ do something scandalous.”

His wives gasped, but the elders chuckled.   
“Is that so?”   
“Congratulations, Lord Hakuryuu.”   
“You are brimming with such robust youth.”   
(Their comments were all in complete sincerity.)

“Hmm. Then it seems a solution to this problem would be to take her as another wife so that the matter is not scandalous and all this slander can cease.”

Mun-hi looked up with surprise, as did her parents, as they had all expected the worst. Harin protested that a woman of such character was not fit to be the wife of their lord, Yuna cried into her hands, and Nam-hi fainted. The elders began congratulating him, but Granny shushed them. “Silence! Lord Hakuryuu’s wishes are the only ones that matter. My Lord, please tell us what you desire.”

The room immediately went silent with suspense, and he growled under his breath. “Do not be ridiculous, Granny. Obviously I desire her. If that is clear, can all this madness please cease?”

Instead, his abode exploded with noise and varied reactions, including Mun-hi unable to control herself any longer as she threw herself against his chest and cried with relief, snot streaming down her face as she repeatedly wailed. _Ah_ , he inwardly smiled. She could be rather cute at times, too.

* * *

 

They were married at the start of the eighth month, at the height of that very hot summer, the villagers all cheerfully saying how their love story would be a legend among future generations (if not a precedent). The sour wives all had no choice but to swallow their ire and support their husband and lord’s desires and wish for his happiness.

Though their feud settled, Mun-hi could not but help take advantage of her security and rub in her victory. When she happened to be at the well at the same time as Nam-hi one morning, she heaved a loud sigh and pulled her hair up as if to cool off, casually revealing her love-bites. “Ow,” she grimaced. “I thought Lord Hakuryuu’s hand would be the most powerful thing about him, but it seems I was wrong.”

* * *

 

As if she got what was coming to her, Mun-hi spent the next few months suffering in bed with debilitating morning sickness, swearing never to touch perfume again and blaming Gi-min for turning her life into a whirling cesspool of puke the moment he held her hand that night she handed him the flowers.

As any discretion of a Hakuryuu was soon to be forgiven, grudges were soon forgotten and replaced by excitement about his new baby. His daughters, the youngest cuddling a doll, all chattered with each other one day as they listened to the comments of well-wishers.

“I wonder what the baby will be?”

“Another sister? Perhaps a little brother?”

“And if a brother, what if he is a Hakuryuu?”

“He would have such darling little dragon scales for us to kiss when we play with him!”

“A little Hakuryuu, all ours!”

“No, sillies. He would not belong to us alone; he would belong to the entire village. To our entire clan.”

Summer turned to autumn. Autumn turned to winter. Winter soon enough turned into spring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's as far as I got! I had originally planned this all as a back-story to a back-story about Kija's childhood, but I never finished writing it, so I never posted it. Might as well leave Mun-hi and Gi-min off while they still have some happy times together, right?


End file.
